


i.preface & introduction.

by The Sneak (AloryShannon)



Series: Welcome to the Akatsuki Public Library, how may we help you to die--I mean, today? [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, not yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-06
Updated: 2008-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AloryShannon/pseuds/The%20Sneak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new employee at the Akatsuki Public Library...much to Sasori's displeasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i.preface & introduction.

  


* * *

 

“…So you really don’t care about my hair, yeah?”

Pein gives his newest employee a wry smile, one pierced eyebrow lifting noticeably. “Do I _look_ like the type of person who’d have a problem with the length of someone’s hair?”

Deidara grins as he glances over the spiked hair and heavily pierced face of the library manager. “Not really, yeah, but it never hurts to be sure.” He abruptly turns his attention to the name tag pinned to the front of his oversized sweater, attempting to straighten the red cloud-shaped pin’s slightly uneven tilt and only succeeding in making it more pronounced. He doesn’t seem to notice this however, and gives a satisfied nod before glancing around Pein’s office with unabashed interest, fingers drumming away on the arms of his chair.

“Alright then,” Pein says as he tucks Deidara’s file away into one of his desk’s many drawers. “Welcome to the Akatsuki Public Library _family,_ Deidara. My assistant seems to be busy at the moment, so I’ll show you around a bit myself, and introduce you to your new co-workers.”

* * *

 

Deidara grins and holds up a hand in farewell as Pein directs him away from the masked man working the reference desk (Kakuzu, he reminds himself, though since everyone’s wearing name tags, remembering names isn’t going to be much of an issue) and back towards the Circulation workroom.

The blonde is enjoying himself thus far. This library’s a nice place--the building's structure is good, the location is perfect (just a ten-minute bike ride from his hole-in-the-wall studio apartment), and the selection of materials here is excellent, the best he’s seen in a long time, and Deidara knows libraries. The patrons don’t seem all that bad either, and Deidara doubts they’ll be too much of a problem; he manages to get along well enough with most people, and although none of his new coworkers were particularly noteworthy (in _his_ eyes anyway--anyone as tall and distinctively shark-faced as Kisame or outright freakish-looking as Zetsu was “noteworthy” by regular standards), he hadn’t taken a real _dis_ liking to any of them.

Then, he meets Itachi.

* * *

 

“Hey, Itachi…don’t you think you were a little hard on the kid?”

The towering blue-haired man watches their newest coworker trail along behind Pein, anger and…something else…obvious in every step, every glance to the side, every flick of his long blonde hair. It’s a bit troubling, that _something else,_ but Kisame isn’t the type to let someone whose waist is _maybe_ the size of his thigh get to him.

He’s on phone duty, as per usual, and feels more like talking than working at the moment; unfortunately for him, Itachi is not very keen on casual conversation, though that never stops Kisame from trying. The big man fiddles with his pen, deftly flipping it up and down through surprisingly dexterous fingers, as if weaving some invisible thread through them, and breaches the subject again. “I mean…it _is_ just his first day, and you have to admit that our library does have some strange quirks. Besides, he looks like the type who’ll pick things up fast.”

Itachi merely looks up at him blandly, eyes dark and dull and two steps from lifeless. After a moment he snorts softly, turning his attention back to the cracked spine of the book he’s repairing.

Kisame tries one more time. “Manager-sama hired him, so he must have some use.”

The semi-quiet hushed sounds of a typical library enfold the two—the rustle of pages, the quick staccato _tak tak tak_ of fingers on keyboards, the half-whispered conversations between patrons, the low, tired hum of the elevator a little ways up the hallway.

“Yes,” Itachi murmurs long after Kisame has given up on getting a reply out of him. “He must have some use.”

Kisame nods thoughtfully and continues threading his pen through his fingers; he knows Itachi will not speak again until closing.

* * *

 

 “…And lastly, just down this hall we have the break room. You’ll be assigned a locker to keep your personal belongings in. Kitchen clean-up is a weekly duty, and the responsibility has a regular rotation, unless I feel like punishing someone.”

Judging by Pein’s tone of voice, this is not an unusual occurrence; Deidara, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since their run-in with Itachi, merely nods and follows his new employer into the room.

“Fridge, microwave, coffeemaker, sink, vending machine. No stove or oven—we had one but Zetsu kept abusing it, so I had it removed, although…”

Pein’s still talking, but Deidara has tuned him out almost completely, the entirety of his attention focusing on the slight figure seated at the little table beside the room’s huge, floor-length window.

He looks very young, like a teenager, if that, though something about his demeanor contradicts this—his posture is far too good for someone of that age, a fact that is only emphasised by his remarkably neat dress attire (dark grey slacks with a matching suit coat and a collared shirt, all without the faintest hint of a wrinkle). His rather formal appearance is somewhat at odds with his hair, however, which is a striking red-brown ( _russet,_ the artist inside Deidara whispers, or sepia, or perhaps burnt mahogany) and undeniably shaggy, though this only serves to emphasise how finely boned his face is.

Everything _about_ him is delicate somehow, from his almost unnaturally pretty face to his large, half-lidded brown eyes to the faint twist of his lip as he glances up from his book on their entrance, and Deidara maintains his silence, though for an entirely different reason now, caught somewhere between an admiring, appreciative wonder, and wondering if the little redhead would close his eyes and go ‘Ma-ma’ if he was tilted backwards far enough.

Deidara is suddenly aware that Pein is talking again. “I wondered where you were, Sasori. I’m a bit surprised that you’re actually taking a break.”

The redhead gives a quiet snort. “I can only bear so much idiocy at one time.” His voice is a resonant contralto, but cynical and dry and far too old for someone who looks as young as he does. “Kakuzu is more than capable of handling things on his own.”

“True enough.”

Sasori’s eyes have dropped from Deidara’s face to his chest no less than three times already, a rather irritating action that the blonde isn’t unfamiliar with and certainly hasn’t missed, and which always means that it is time for him to open his mouth and remove all doubt about his gender from a new acquaintance’s mind. He takes a breath in preparation of doing so, but Sasori beats him to it.

“Did you have to hire another woman?” Disdain is clear in the redhead’s tone, and his expression as he boldly meets Pein’s eyes borders on accusatory. “The one we’ve got already is more than enough.”

“I’m not a woman,” Deidara snaps, the rich tenor of his voice leaving no room for uncertainty in the matter.

If Sasori is at all surprised or embarrassed by his mistake, it doesn’t show on his face. “If you take offense at being mistaken for a woman, perhaps you should do something about your ridiculous appearance.”

“Ha, that’s funny, coming from an overdressed high school kid like you, yeah.”

The room temperature seems to drop a good twenty degrees as Sasori’s eyes narrow; Deidara glares right back, seemingly unintimidated.

A slow smile spreads across Pein’s face as he looks back and forth between the two.

_…Perfect._

“As I was going to say,” the library manager cuts in, a tinge of amusement obvious in his tone, “Sasori is the head reference librarian, Deidara. He’s been with us for…over ten years now, isn’t it?” He gives a low chuckle that is mostly under his breath, his smile widening just a bit as he turns to the glowering redhead. “I was going to show Deidara around a bit more, maybe start training him a little, but I just remembered that I have quite a lot of paperwork to do.” The head reference librarian gives a small jerk, and the full, daunting force of his menacing gaze slowly transfers itself to his superior; Pein doesn’t even flinch. “I trust you remember how we do things down here in Circulation, Sasori?”

Sasori makes a quiet noise of irritation before managing a slightly strained-sounding, _“Yes.”_

Apparently the library manager is in the mood to be sadistic, because he gives the screw another twist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, Sasori,” he says pleasantly. “What did you say?”

“Yes, _sir.”_

Pure venom.

Pein grins openly. “Good. Well, I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted.”

He knows even without looking back over his shoulder that they’ve resumed their overtly hostile staring match, but that only widens his grin. Sasori is an excellent (if not excessively meticulous) employee--like it or not, he’ll show Deidara how things are done. And Deidara hadn’t seemed the slightest bit unsettled by the bloodlust in the tiny redhead’s eyes--he’d actually had the nerve to glare back, which was something of a surprise, though a welcome one; this library could _use_ more people like that, people with some chutzpah, people with some _backbone._

Pein returns to his office feeling quite pleased with himself, intent on kicking back, putting on some quiet jazz music, and sending his assistant manager out for cappuccinos.

His rear has scarcely made contact with his padded leather desk chair, however, when a resounding crash comes from the direction of the break room, followed by several noises of unintelligible rage. He rolls his eyes and clicks a few buttons on his intercom, ensuring that the transmission goes to the break room only.

“Sasori?”

The shouting abruptly cuts off, leaving an angry silence in its wake.

“I don’t care whose fault it is, or what nature of mess it may be. You will _both_ clean it up.”

Without waiting for a reply, he clicks off the intercom, and with a sly smile that is more that half-smirk, he takes out his palm pilot and opens a few documents—notably those pertaining to partner assignments, as well as a few personal work schedules. After making a few quick but significant adjustments to the overall schedule, Pein e-mails it to all his employees, fervently wishing he could see the look on Sasori’s face when he discovers that he’s been partnered with Deidara for closing for the next six months. Perhaps he’d have Zetsu go through the tapes from the surveillance cameras to find it for him.

That done, he sweeps all the aforementioned paperwork aside (Konan will deal with it later after he’s left for the evening--she always does), folds his arms behind his head, and props his feet up on his desk, his satisfied smile only broadening as the sound of teamwork in action (read: bickering) floats down the hallway.

Yes, he had definitely made the right decision in hiring the blonde: Sasori hasn’t taken such a shine to someone in years.

 

* * *

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